History
by Liebling
Summary: ‘Sirius Black made me weak, and part of me, a very small part, depended on him. And I will never completely forgive him for that.’ Bellatrix reflects on Sirius Black. OotP spoilers.


Authors Note: Just an idea.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
From: Moi  
  
:-)  
  
Bellatrix reflects on how she killed her cousin. Taken almost directly after the events  
  
-=Nada Mine=-  
  
~*~  
  
I killed him. And he died an awful death. And I am not sorry.  
  
Not the conventional sort of sorry, if I could bring him back, I wouldn't. Really terrible.  
  
I suppose the funniest part is that I don't feel "overwhelmed with guilt" and I don't feel remorseful.  
  
Oh I wouldn't go as far as to say he deserved it, but I'd go very close to that.  
  
Rudolphus was pleased, he gave me a roguish wink and said: "Was that one for the boys'?" Of course, he was referring to the death eaters.  
  
"No," I shook my head. "That one was for me."  
  
And it was.  
  
I have been known for rising to the occasion. Sirius gave me a very smug 'is that the best you can do?' so I showed him the best I could do.  
  
The Ministry's out looking for me now, and they always ask in the papers: 'what made her tick?'  
  
It was not spontaneous I did not wake up one day and say, "I would like to kill Sirius Black." It was deep hatred, deep hatred that began from the start.  
  
It was a series of awful events, mostly centered around him. He made my life horrid.   
  
You know, he was the one who gave me my first sip of brandy, I was just sixteen. He was the one who when I stayed at Grimmauld Place let me borrow one of his old 'Chudley Cannon' shirts to sleep in. He was the one who cried 'injustice' in my fights with Mummy and Daddy. He had a keen sense of right or wrong, and I cannot fault him for that. He also knew exactly what he wanted. For my birthday one year he gave me a blue teddy bear and I named it 'Blackie.' I still have it. Even if one of the beady eyes is missing. He taught me how to fly a comet two sixty, taught me how to ride bareback.  
  
It was unbelievable. Completely inhuman. I have never been treated with such kindness and concern and consideration. And here he was, for seemingly no reason helping me out and making me (as he called it) "worldly."  
  
I wasn't made to be "helped" and "loved" and "protected." I was meant to be alone and hated and a 'one man band.'  
  
Sirius Black made me weak, and part of me, a very small part, depended on him. And I will never completely forgive him for that.  
  
He brought back innocence in me and took away cynicism.   
  
And this went on forever.  
  
Sirius Black although an absolute nuisance is a true fighter, almost as much as me.   
  
I could not run away from him. I used to go upstairs in the 'ol palace and try and hide my tears, he'd always find me. I was a child then but I was so surprised when he found me that I began laughing. He was the one there with the stories of princesses and princes and dragons.   
  
And the worst thing was that he made me want to not run away.  
  
When all I wanted was to be alone...all I got was being with him.  
  
He was my history and the blood that ran through my veins.  
  
And I hated that. And I always will.  
  
Rudolphus and I we are not sappy folks. We speak bluntly to each other and say loudly 'pass the marmalade' and 'go away' and 'I don't want to see your ugly face ever again' and 'this is what I want from you.' We do not beat around the bush, we do not 'pretty up' our words. We are cold and we are callous. And we do not depend on each other. If I were to be without Rudolphus I would be fine. Going where I pleased, eating out at cafes, reading old books that smelled ancient. I would not be sorry. And I know he would be fine with me as well. We do not have a "bond" we have a "schedule." Every morning, without fail I peck him on the cheek and rush out to get the paper. He stays behind and prepares his burnt toast with too much butter, as always.  
  
And that's just the way it is.  
  
However, I cannot run away from Sirius Black. Not even if I tried. I could bury his body a million times; I could jump on his corpse and yell at the top of my lungs at him. But I could never rid myself of him. He is as sure a part of me as the clouds are part of the sky. I hoped by killing him I could get away from the history and the past.  
  
But Sirius Black, although dead (and most likely alone, as it should be) is a wicked man. And he is with me. He is a fighter and still he is fighting.  
  
His blood runs through my veins, and the bear he gave me is on my messy bed.   
  
For he is Sirius Black...and he never did give up easily. 


End file.
